


a well deserved teasing

by hanktalkin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Embarrassment, F/F, F/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Multiple Personalities, Secret Relationship, Team Talon (Overwatch), Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:04:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/pseuds/hanktalkin
Summary: As much as I love Doomfist acting buddy-buddy with everyone, timeline-wise it doesn’t really make sense for him to know who the heck Sombra and Reaper are haha. So here’s Doomfist getting out of prison and meeting the gang.





	a well deserved teasing

The post-jailbreak meeting had the seedy, decrepit atmosphere of a drug den rather than a debriefing. The exhaustion in the room was palpable, Widowmaker tasting the blood of several fresh kills under her tongue and wishing she’d gotten more time to stand watch. If she had, she might have added even more works of art to her portfolio—however, Doomfist had proven to be…much more capable than they had expected during his escape.

“There’s already people unhappy you’re back,” Reaper finished saying. “Maximilien’s dying to tell you all about that, though, so I’ll leave it to him.”

Doomfist watched Reaper with unreadable eyes, most likely appraising his new second in command. The gauntlet lay across the table in restlessness, frozen there like a starving tiger waiting for a child to walk past its cage. Doomfist’s other hand laced fingers through it, in a gesture that would have been comical if it were any other man doing it.

On Doomfist, it just looked confident. The air of a man who had everything under control.

“I see,” he said finally. “Dismissed, Reaper.”

Reaper nodded, having already gathered some half-formed introductions during Doomfist’s escape. Really, their strike team almost hadn’t needed to be there at all—in the end, it appeared Doomfist could have gotten at any time he chose, and all they did was supply him a helicopter. Widow hadn’t believed Sombra when she had started raving that Doomfist literally _punched his way out of his cell_ , not until she’d stood in the remains of the solid concrete wall with her jaw falling to the ground.

As he stood to go, Reaper passed by her and put a hand on her shoulder. It was warm, even through the armor, something Widow always noticed. Other people always felt unusually hot to her, and she often wondered how Amélie could stand it.

“Get it looked at by someone,” he said, soft words and smoke billowing in her ear, close enough that it was inaudible to anyone else in the room. _It_ meaning the cut she’d sustained while getting in the helicopter and _someone_ meaning _not Moira_.

The doctor herself didn’t look up, flipping through various test results she’d been engrossed with all debriefing. Widow nodded.

Satisfied, Reaper squeezed her shoulder again, and took his leave.

“I thank you for your help today, ladies,” Doomfist continued once Reaper was gone, apparently still with more to discuss.

“Like you _needed_ help, boss,” Sombra laughed to the left of Widow. “I saw what you did to that cellblock. Just… _dios mío_." The last statement came out in a purr, the size of Sombra’s pupils growing as she looked at Doomfist, and telling the whole story. Widow pressed a leg against her under the table in attempt to reel her in.

There were things she didn’t mind about Sombra. And, dare she say, even things she _liked_ about the hacker. But certain lines weren’t crossed, and even if Widow was willing to have some allowances for Sombra’s tastes, lusting after Doomfist wasn’t one of them.

Sombra turned, ever so slightly to the see the _he’s off limits_ look Widow was shooting her. The hacker pouted, but pressed back into Widow, the warmth from her leg a grudging acceptance.

“I just wanted to say it was good to see each of your abilities,” Doomfist finished. And, was it Widow’s imagination, or was there a smile on his face that hadn’t been there a moment ago? “I wanted to ask what brought you to Talon in the first place, Sombra?”

Sombra grinned, leaning back in her chair in a way that was most certainly _not_ professional. “Oh, you know, same old same old. Saving the world.” And her eyes flicked back to Widow for just a second.

Doomfist waited, but when she didn’t elaborate, he said, “very well. I think it is time we prepared to see Maximilien.”

Sombra didn’t need to be told twice. No doubt she was excited to put on her new masquerade costume, travesty that it was. She left the briefing room with a cheerful _see you all soon_ , and a small wave.

It left Widow, Doomfist, and Moira alone, although the doctor still hadn’t looked up from her work. The mood changed instantly, Doomfist leaning forward in casual familiarity.

“Widowmaker,” he said, the smile back on his face. “It is good to see you are not dead.”

She snorted. “You still have a bet to cash in on? I do believe the agent you were bargaining with is in the ground, putting _her_ expiration far before mine.”

Doomfist nodded fondly at the sharpness of her response. She’d always like Doomfist, although apparently he was one of the few Talon higher-ups who’d opposed her…recruitment. In spite—or maybe because—of that, he’d partially taken her under his wing, their similar temperaments making the two mesh well together. Often she tried to tell him that she was satisfied with her new condition, but the man had never listened, and there was always an undercurrent of guilt to their relationship.

“There’s still time, Widowmaker,” he joked. But then more seriously he finished, “it seems you are doing well in my absence.”

“Yes. That is…true.” More than well, actually. Possibly even…happy.

“Though I must ask,” he continued, “how long have the three of you been sleeping together?”

The sound that came out of Widowmaker’s mouth was one she would never admit to making. It was halfway between _what_ and _quelle_ coming out more along the lines of _whelle??_ She gaped, running through all the possible options that didn’t involve Doomfist knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Do you mean me and Amélie or…?” she asked, trying and failing not to look like a fool.

“No, I mean your strike team. You, Reaper, and Sombra? You’re quite the well-fitting bunch.” And, god damn it, Widow recognized the look in his eyes because fucking _Doomfist_ was _teasing_ her. Her cheeks became a very dark shade of purple. “I understand what attracted you to them. They’re both very strong, very powerful people.”

It takes a lot to get Widowmaker to fluster. She prides herself on being cool and detached, traits that make her _the_ best sniper in the world. But something about being teased by her former mentor about a fling no one was supposed to know about (and could never imagine how happy it made her) put her over the edge and left her blushing like a school girl.

“I…yes…they are,” she finally admitted.

Doomfist sat back, eyebrow raised in victory. “Congratulations Widowmaker. Considering how you’ve been collecting, I’m surprised you haven’t brought Dr. O’Deorain in on your little escapade.”

That last one was almost certainly a joke, and Moira made a noise of disgust immediately. “Please, like I would ever join in on that nonsense.” She flipped another page.

Widow was about to coolly inform her that no one would invite her anyways, when the wider context sunk in. “You…knew?” They’ve been dancing around Moira for _ages_ , and the women never gave any sign she thought something was amiss. “Have we been that-?”

“Obvious?” Moira asked, looking up for the first time. “Yes darling. Yes you are.”

That made Doomfist laugh out loud, and Widow couldn’t help but admit defeat, no matter how much she probably deserved this pestering. She stood. “Any more catching up Doomfist, or do you wish pick on me even more?”

But her expression softened when she looked at him. It was so rare to see him smile before he left, and after all this time she’d forgotten she was one of the few people who could make him show it.

He tilted his head. “No Widowmaker, that is all. I’ll see you soon.”

It was enough of a dismissal, and she turned to the door, leaving a good-natured Doomfist and a perpetually disinterested Moira.

**Author's Note:**

> so pre-widow amelie is still alive technically in this one as is just sort of second "entity"


End file.
